


DmC: Devil May Cry

by missthesnow



Category: DmC: Devil May Cry
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 08:44:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17846165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missthesnow/pseuds/missthesnow
Summary: A rewrite of DmC: Devil May Cry where Kat is substituted with a Nephilim OC. Essentially a written version of the plot of the game with some edits and additional scenes.





	1. Mundus

Mundus peered into the abyss of the hellgate. The very thing which kept his demons and his kingdom suspended in Limbo, a world parallel to the human one. It was held in stasis within wooden scaffolding on the topmost floor of his offices. He was on a phone call with the president and was exceptionally irritated. 

He replied to the fearful voice on the end of the line, "No. This is not a veiled threat. This is a direct one. Should you fail to comply, the collapse of the economy will be on your head."

Lillith, a wretched, emaciated, ugly female demon in what could barely be called human form, sat on a couch and laughed wickedly while listening to the conversation Mundus was having.

"I will make sure you are stripped of power, shamed and hated. Is that clear enough for you?" He spoke succinctly into the phone. 

Mundus' human form took the shape of a large bald man. He had a scar across his left eye, rendering it useless and and a piercing white. He wore an expensive suit with buttons that fought to stay fastened.

It seemed the president would comply with the demands Mundus had given him. "Excellent! You have a good night, Mr. President." he ended the conversation with ice in his voice. 

Lillith patted the space next to her. "Did you get it, my darling?"

Mundus beckoned her to him. He didn't want to sit. 

"Over a trillion. Soon I will own everything worth owning. I will control the world though debt." He pulled Lillith close to him. "I have absolute power."

"The world is at last your bitch." She said, eyes running him over. "As am I. Nothing left but to grab it by the hair," she undid one of his shirt buttons, "bend it over and --"

Mundus grunted, displeased. 

Lillith stepped back from him, "What? What is it? What's the matter?"

Mundus turned to look out the window. "A loose end."

"A loose end? What?" she was confused.

"The son of the traitor, Sparda... Dante." He growled

"Oh him." she remarked, running her bony fingers along Mundus' collar.

He ignored her. "He's still out there." He said darkly.

Lillith hung on his arm, dry lipsticked lips close to his ear. "The hunter will find him. They found Sparda and his whore. And when they do..." She reached for another of his buttons.

"I will rip open his chest with my bare hands and feast on his beating heart." Mundus finished her sentence with a sickening grin.


	2. Dante

Dante looked around and took in the sights of the club for what wasn't the first time and what would definitely not be the last. Lillith's club was one of the high-end strip clubs in the city and Dante loved sneaking his way in. He was never on the guest list, and didn't have the money to put himself on there either. Once you were in (in Dante's case, whether by staying in bouncer blind spots or finding conveniently unlocked doors), no one cared what you looked like or what you were wearing. About a year ago, he had first decided to check out Lillith's club for several reasons; one being that he kept getting thrown out of other clubs for inability to pay or for getting too handsy... He couldn't remember which. The second reason was the demons. The first night he had seen the club's owner and namesake, Lillith, Dante had nearly lost his appetite for the dancers. She was a hideous old woman, who on the nights she observed the club, brought with her an even uglier crowd - a horde of Demons.

As far as he could tell, Dante was the only one who could see the demons, or at least, he was the only one who cared enough to see them. Sometimes he saw them in the faces of the other guests, brief flashes of soulless eyes or disfigured bodies. Other times he saw horrid figures craning over a depraved clubber as they reached for the arm of a performer.

Tonight, however, despite Lillith surveying the club from her usual balcony, Dante had yet to see any demons. He was almost disappointed, but he quickly remembered there were other things he could occupy himself with at the club.

He walked over to the bar and ordered three shots of tequila. As he threw the first one back, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a demon materialize beside the bartender. Dante threw the shot glass and it struck the demon squarely in the forehead with enough force to injure it and send it back to Limbo. The bartender apparently hadn't noticed anything, but a demon a few feet away cocked his head to observe Dante. He downed the other two shots. Curious if he could spot any other demons, he got up from the bar and made his way to one of the couches. The shots went on someone else's tab; Nobody really cared about where their money went in the club.

As an intellectual who lived for irony, Dante appreciated the club's theme, Devils and Angels. He wasn't aware of any actual angels that frequented the joint, but his favorite dancers were the angelic costumed ones clad in feathery white wings and matching underwear sets. The two he sat in front of were currently caressing each other, bra-covered breasts pressed against bare skin. He smirked watching them feel the curves of each other's bodies and bit his lip fantasizing about being in the middle of them. He beckoned the girls closer, one with fiery red hair, the other blonde. They flashed him blinding smiles and started feeling him up. Focus waning, he managed to catch a glimpse of another guest's eye flash black. Dante started to feel more and more dark eyes rake over him, and not the jealous kind either. These were the hungry, hunting kind.

That was his cue to leave. He stood abruptly, letting the girls fall into each other on the couch and winked as he walked backwards toward the door. The girls were rather smitten and followed him out to an alleyway where the club had a cab waiting for any patrons going home for additional services. They piled into the backseat and Dante gave the driver his address at the pier.

The girls gave him ample attention with their hands as they drove. One of the girls undid his belt and pants zipper and brought her mouth down to meet the rise in his briefs. If Dante hadn't been straining against the seat as she brought him closer to climax, he might have noticed the feeling he'd had of eyes on him at the club hadn't left or faded as they drove into the night.

He composed himself as the arrived at the empty pier and the three exited the cab before the redhead had a chance to finish him off. The driver sped off, presumably to pick up more patrons back at the club. The redhead had gotten her hands on Dante's guns and admired them as the blonde came from behind and ran her white hands down her breasts and torso. Dante enjoyed the impromptu show with his weapons and appreciated the euphemistic implications of the redhead running the barrels along her waist.

The trio got into a ferris wheel car on the boardwalk and the girls seemed determined to get him fully uninhibited by the time they made it back down to the ground. His coat was first to go, being thrown unceremoniously off the side of the car. They reached the bottom, thin hands feeling him all over and Dante reached his limit of patience.

He led them to an emptier section of the pier, occupied only by a modest trailer. Dante kicked the door open and took a swig of some booze he'd found on the way. The girls led the way to his bed and invited him closer. He tossed the bottle aside and joined the girls on the bed, both of which instantly shoved him onto his back and started groping at each other. Dante started to feel the effects of all he had drunk that night and everything following became a blur. All he could remember was lustful, wanting hands, heat that radiated from every exposed bit of skin and a climax that left him shaking and barely conscious. He thought he might have heard the trailer door open, but he wasn't awake long enough to find out.


End file.
